A POW Bracelet Goes Home
Posted: Mon Feb 09, 2009 4:51 pm
This comment doesn't have much to do with fishing, except to point out that I do things besides lobbying for a 50-inch rule and free fishing licenses for military personnel, and some of the other stuff I do demands quite a lot of my time and emotional energy. In fact, it often seems that going fishing is a pretty minor part of my activities.
Last month I got an unexpected phone call from a stranger in San Francisco who told me his fiancee has a Vietnam-era MIA/POW bracelet that she wants to return to the missing man's family. He found me through an internet search; I wrote an article about the battle and his capture that's available on the internet. He hoped to find the MIA's family through me.
Thousands of these bracelets were distributed to the public and worn by individuals as part of a nationwide "support the troops" and remembrance effort. The name on this bracelet is that of an Army officer who was captured in 1970 at a remote outpost manned by troops from my former unit. He's one of 50 Americans known to have been captured alive in South Vietnam who remain missing and unaccounted for.
I corresponded with his sister 10 years ago when I was writing the article, and I know where she is. Of course, I wouldn't disclose that to a stranger without her permission. You have to be careful. Some MIA/POW families were exploited by soldiers of fortune who wanted money to search for their missing loved ones. And this forever remains a very emotional subject for the relatives. I grew up in an MIA family, and although I was very young at the time, I remember how excited my parents were when they learned my uncle's World War 2 bomber had been found and his remains were coming home. (He was the commander of a B-24 Liberator that was lost in the Phillippines, and they're still finding them out there; another B-24 crew was repatriated just last year.)
I offered to act as an intermediary. I informed the sister of the man's offer to send her the bracelet and left it up to her to decide what to do. I've received her reply. Her letter says "the pain never goes away" and it's very emotional for her to know there are people who think of her brother and "still care." Does she want the bracelet? Yes. A phone call later, and it's on its way.
How could I not do this? Another duty fulfilled. Those who have served will understand what I mean when I say that even after you've left the uniform you're never completely dismissed. There will always be some more assemblies to report for.
Last month I got an unexpected phone call from a stranger in San Francisco who told me his fiancee has a Vietnam-era MIA/POW bracelet that she wants to return to the missing man's family. He found me through an internet search; I wrote an article about the battle and his capture that's available on the internet. He hoped to find the MIA's family through me.
Thousands of these bracelets were distributed to the public and worn by individuals as part of a nationwide "support the troops" and remembrance effort. The name on this bracelet is that of an Army officer who was captured in 1970 at a remote outpost manned by troops from my former unit. He's one of 50 Americans known to have been captured alive in South Vietnam who remain missing and unaccounted for.
I corresponded with his sister 10 years ago when I was writing the article, and I know where she is. Of course, I wouldn't disclose that to a stranger without her permission. You have to be careful. Some MIA/POW families were exploited by soldiers of fortune who wanted money to search for their missing loved ones. And this forever remains a very emotional subject for the relatives. I grew up in an MIA family, and although I was very young at the time, I remember how excited my parents were when they learned my uncle's World War 2 bomber had been found and his remains were coming home. (He was the commander of a B-24 Liberator that was lost in the Phillippines, and they're still finding them out there; another B-24 crew was repatriated just last year.)
I offered to act as an intermediary. I informed the sister of the man's offer to send her the bracelet and left it up to her to decide what to do. I've received her reply. Her letter says "the pain never goes away" and it's very emotional for her to know there are people who think of her brother and "still care." Does she want the bracelet? Yes. A phone call later, and it's on its way.
How could I not do this? Another duty fulfilled. Those who have served will understand what I mean when I say that even after you've left the uniform you're never completely dismissed. There will always be some more assemblies to report for.
